This evening, DH and I were browsing a brochure for the upcoming season at the Davis Theatre for the Performing Arts when we suddenly burst into song together. Specifically, we were singing "Oklahoma." It seems that we both know most of the lyrics.
We've had this propensity to erupt into show tunes for many years, especially when driving. I imagine that our passengers felt like they were trapped with that couple in the car in The Sure Thing, although we didn't try to coerce them into singing along with us. We're MFEO.
Both of us have been involved in music since we were little kids--DH is a flutist and I was a church organist and glee club member, which helps to explain my serious addiction to Glee of late.
I have warm memories of traveling with a preteen Pappy in the back seat, and looking back on it, he was quite patient with our spontaneous off-off-Broadway productions when we were passing a cotton field (insert your favorite cotton-related song here) or traversing the bridge over the Suwannee River.
Now, to our delight, we have a whole new generation to irritate. Both Little Man and The Fred love music in general--but our robust vocalizations? Not so much. The Fred is pretty sweet and tolerant about it, but Little Man just shouts, "Grandpa--DON'T SING!!!" He is learning the words to some songs, however.
And, unfortunately, Grandpa pretends to know the words to lots and lots of songs.